Chhole samosa at Guru Kripa, Sion. AKA A1 samosa |
Bollywood dreams
to watch movies at what was known as the Gaiety Galaxy complex in Bandra on weekends. This
was in the late 1990s. I would go after dinner to catch a night show. During interval, I would buy
myself a pack of samosas and a machine made Nescafe ‘cappuccino’, served in a tiny plastic cup, and one which had more sugar than an entire bhaar of KC Das rasgullas from back home in Calcutta. I was alone, but content.
would go to Sterling in ‘Town’ to watch movies. We would buy a pack of samosas
during the interval. Nutty fingers from the RTI counter as well. And a diet (!) cola. This was after
Sterling was refurbished and years before it became a multiplex.
that we both equally loved the crust of the samosa, and the carby crunchy deep fried near sensual delight that it offered, more than the filling.
learnt that they were supplied by a shop called Guru Kripa in Sion.
A Mumbai suburb that’s frozen in time
Look beyond the traffic on its roads and you will always find a restaurant in Sion |
yesterday.
everything except Mumbai in the past few months. This was not out of choice. It was because of a frequently
recurring bout of lower back pain attacks that needed me to rest at home. Most of my
food explorations therefore happened when I was out of town. When at home, I would rest and write when I could. Fuelled by home cooked food.
change this I guess as I had a window from the pain as my physio had promised I would have after our morning session on Monday. I took the opportunity and headed off to Guru Kripa for a date long due. That with the samosa!
at around 1230 in the afternoon by cab. We were soon at the Sion circle
which one has often crossed on the way to New Bombay, and Lonavla and Pune too.
The first thing that struck me when I looked out of the car and past the traffic
was how the pavements seemed to be chockablock with small restaurants. Sion,
they say, used to be the food hub of suburban Mumbai and this seemed to prove
that. The people here sure do love to eat!
Samosa sighting
That’s Guru Kripa on the left. The black sheets are to protect the curomers from the afternoon heat |
of the building which together make up Guru Kripa as I realised. I could see pattice being
fried in one room, dosas and idlis coming out of order. In between, there is a
larger room where people sit and eat under harsh white, non-Instagram friendly, tubelights (you
know where I did not go). In the corner was a small room where chaats were
being prepared. And in the open area, there was someone making kulfi faloodas
opposite the sweet counter. There were some table stands kept in the courtyard where you could place your plate and sit on the wall and eat. That is where I chose to sit. It was a lot more atmospheric sitting in sterile, from the 80s socialist era, sort of dining room I felt.
A peep into Guru Kripa |
that you go to the one of the cash counters, place your order and pay and then
take the chit to the relevant counter and collect your food.
All great stories start with a samosa
Samosa chhole at Guru Kripa |
samosa was the hero. They kept the samosa whole, aside from the channa in another section of the plate and did not smash it in to the channa. This way you could taste the goodness of samosa by itself too unlike in Lashkara where it was served as a chaat (they had asked me whether they should serve it separately to be honest at L).
Samosa chhole at Lashkara, Bandra. I love the samosas here too. They have a higher potato quotient than at Guru Kripa |
broke into a huge grin. This was the same taste of the samosas that I loved when I had moved into Mumbai,
but hundred times better when had freshly fried. The crust spoke of joy and
love and every childhood pleasure that you could think of.
The potatoes in the samosa at Guru Kripa, unlike
in their A1 movie theatre ones, were not stodgy at all. The potatoes offered a lovely confluence of starch and tart and chilli heat that give support to the glorious and majestic crust.
Easily my favourite samosas in Mumbai.
The potatoes had so much more life here than in the movies |
protein that came in in the form of the chhole/ channa (chickpeas) to add balance The beauty of the chhole was
that it had a slightly homelike feel to it and the gravy was not too thick. The
tamarind chutney added to it added a touch of sweet and sour. The sliced raw
onion, a bit of sharpness to balance the metaphorical mushy love.
Curry for the soul. Or Kadhi as Freddy mama keeps correcting me.
Kadhi chawal. Thanks for the tip Mahesh |
Gidwani, a Sindhi himself, insisted that I have Sindhi kadhi chawal (Rs 135) there. I was so glad that I did so. The sweet and sour, gram flour based runny
kadhi, which was packed with drumsticks, okra and curry leaves, made for the
perfect summer meal when combined with the rice. Light and soothing and most maternal indeed. It
came with a pattice and a laddoo and of course the mandatory papad which
Sindhis love.
Joseph and the technicolour falooda |
too sweet for me to eat with a clear conscience these days and I left most of it
in the bowl I am afraid. In another time and in another life, I would have wiped the plate clean perhaps. Pradeep is fond of the chhole pattice and the pani puri as well. I am not a pani puri (team phucka) fan though and I skipped it. I did not have the space for the chhole pattice that my kadhi chawal plate did come with a pattice.
Pani puri and kulfi. They should call this the Dr Pradeep Rao stand |
Sion and the spirit of Mumbai
Everyone enjoying their meal in the spirit of peaceful coexistence.
A family of two kids and their parents and shopping bags came and sat beside me and I pushed myself to the side to give them more space. The father kept going to the counter and getting them treats. They did not seem very well off and you could sense that it was a bit of a banquet for them and I felt privileged to share the sense of pure joy that they felt.
With Rahul |
I bumped into a Finely Chopped reader at Guru Kripa, Rahul, who came up to say hi. He had
finished his plate of samosa chhole he said. He told me that he had followed my Delhi trails
from the blog and shared some of his experiences with me about the same. I took a selfie with him and requested him to click me
too.
“How come none of this shows on you,” he asked.
I looked up from the half eaten plate of samosa chhole and the yet to be eaten plate of kadhi chawal and said, “this is rare for me these days. I eat at home more often. That helps I guess.”
Can’t tell you how happy I was |
The main thing was that I was so happy to be out again and yet thanks to the Sindhi kadhi chawal that I had, as close to being at home as possible. That explains my smile.
My lunch today while I wrote this post as prepared by our cook Banu #LittleJackHornerMeals as I put it |
Also of interest from Finely Chopped:
2. A post explaining my childhood fascination with channa/ chhole
This post brings so many of my childhood samosa memories in Nashik. When I was in School, there was a guy who used to sell samosa for 1 rupee and vada pav for 2 rupees back in 2001-2005 outside of my school. I still remember the taste. Then, in my colony, there was one uncle who used to roam around and sell samosas (cost around 10 rupees for 2 samosas) with best sweet-spicy tamarind chutney in a residential area on his kinetic luna. I still remember the delicious taste of scrumptious textured samosas and those sellers faces.